


The Life and Times of Nyota Uhura

by twilightfire



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Community: trekreversebang, F/M, Implied Relationships, Kid Fic, M/M, Mild Language, Minor Violence, Off-Screen OC Death, Original Character(s), Sexual References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-19
Updated: 2012-02-19
Packaged: 2017-10-31 10:24:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/342962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twilightfire/pseuds/twilightfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When she was a child, her uncle had been a large part of her life. Even when she’s an adult, she still can’t help but follow in his footsteps.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Life and Times of Nyota Uhura

**Author's Note:**

> First, I would like to say thank you to [teacandles](http://teacandles.livejournal.com/) for drawing the amazing [art](http://teacandles.livejournal.com/14654.html) that inspired and accompanies this story.
> 
> In addition, I would also like to say thank you to [heeroluva](http://www.archiveofourown.org/users/heeroluva) for providing the names for Keith and Captain Rainer (who was almost named Captain Ahab), as well as for betaing this fic. 
> 
> Written for [trekreversebang](http://community.livejournal.com/trekreversebang) as a last-minute pinch hit.

5 Months

“Hei, Nyota.”

Baby Nyota giggled at her uncle as he smiled down at her, holding her carefully in his arms. He made a face at her, sticking out his tongue and crossing his eyes, receiving even more giggles from a gleeful Nyota.

“John, what are you doing?”

He turned to look at the doorway, where a tall woman was staring at him and her child in amusement. She raised an eyebrow at him. “You better not be teaching her foreign languages, John.”

“Come on, Penda. It’s never too early to start teaching.”

“It is when she doesn’t even know how to speak English,” she retorted. “As it is, I have to fight off Naomi from teaching her xenology and Samara from teaching her music. Wait until she can at least walk, first.”

“But all that wonderful learning time, wasted!” he gasped exaggeratedly, grabbing his chest in feigned shock. “She’ll never recover!”

Penda simply laughed, and held out her hands for her daughter. “I’m sure she’ll cope. How’ve you been?”

“Fine, fine. Being a communications officer isn’t all it’s cut out to be, but the travel sure is nice. Just last month we had to broker a treaty with giraffe-people.”

“Giraffe-people?”

“Long necks, horrid sex habits. All very interesting, of course, but I learned more about giraffes than I ever really wanted to know.”

“And that is why you never went into biology, John,” she replied, gently bouncing Nyota as she sat down on the nearby couch.

“Your boyfriend is why I never went into biology,” he corrected. “He thought for sure I was trying to move in on you.”

“Don’t be so silly, he wasn’t nearly that jealous.”

“I beg to differ, Penda. I just hope none of his bad habits rubbed off on poor Nyota here.”

“John, Keith wasn’t that bad,” she defended.

“Of course not,” he relented, “the sex must have been spectacular to keep you with him for so long.”

“ _John!_ she shrieked, laughing and swatting him on the shoulder. “You’re horrible.”

He rubbed his head sheepishly. “Well…” he trailed off.

“And John? For the record?”

“Yeah?”

“I _did_ only stay with him for the sex.”

“Penda! You naughty girl!” he laughed.

\----

2 years, 5 months

John gently pulled on one of Nyota’s toes as she squirmed away, laughing. “En.”

He grabbed her next toe. “To.”

Her third toe was subjected to the same treatment. “Tre. What comes after ‘tre’, Nyota?”

“Feer-uh!” she squealed.

He shrugged. “Close enough. And what’s ‘five’?”

“Fem!”

“Very good!” he praised.

“Are you teaching Nyota Norwegian _again_?” Penda asked as she walked through the doorway, a plate of fresh cookies in her hands.

“We were getting tired of French,” he replied, tickling Nyota, much to her delight.

“How much of that do you honestly think she’ll remember?” Penda asked, setting the plate down on the nearby coffee table. John pushed off from the ground, releasing Nyota from her tickle torture, and grabbed a cookie. Nyota followed suit, but grabbed five cookies instead of one.

Penda gently pried four of the cookies out of Nyota’s hands. “Let’s leave some room for dinner, okay, sweetie?”

Nyota pouted, but curled up next to John contentedly, chewing on her cookie.

John took a bite out of his cookie, and sprayed cookie crumbs all over as he spoke. “As long as she’s got me to test her memory, she’ll remember,” he said assuredly.

“You sound so certain.”

“Penda, I’ve known you since we were five, and you were that geeky little black girl down the street and I was the stringy white boy who followed you everywhere.”

She laughed. “You were so skinny! Momma always wanted to fatten you up. I was always trying to get you to come by our house, because that’s the only time she would make dozens of cookies and muffins.”

He looked at her sideline. “I never _did_ get any of those cookies. You and your sisters would always eat them all!”

She nudged the plate closer to him. “Well, you’re getting some now. So you better eat them before Nyota follows in my footsteps.”

He laughed and grabbed another cookie from the plate, quickly followed by Nyota’s tiny hand. Penda gave her a look, and Nyota only grabbed one more cookie, instead of the four that she was going for.

“How’s the shop?” John asked, taking a bite out of his second cookie.

Penda shrugged. “Got another junker in yesterday, needs a new transmission. Needs a lot of other stuff as well, but the transmission is the only thing he wants replaced.”

“Yeah? What else does it need? Spark plugs?”

She sighed. “The spark plugs are corroded, the fuel hose is plugged, it needs a new fuel pump altogether, and don’t even get me started on that engine or the brake lines. And the rust! The doors are about ready to fall off, I swear.”

He winced. “I don’t even know what half you just said meant, but it sounds pretty bad.”

She nodded, and sighed. “And these transmissions are known to be faulty, so there’s a chance he’ll have to bring it right back to get yet another transmission in. Sometimes I wish we could afford to get out of here, so I can get a job that actually uses my degree.”

“There’s always Starfleet,” John started.

“We’ve had this conversation before, John. Starfleet Academy costs money, and I can’t go in with just a biology degree. Plus, I’d have to leave Nyota alone, and there’s a chance that I’d get assigned to a ship. And what if something happens to me, and I’m aboard the next Kelvin? I worry about you enough, John.”

He sighed. “Well, it was worth a try.”

“And you know I’ll always say no. Speaking of Starfleet, how does it feel to be a Lieutenant Commander?”

“Surreal. I mean, I’m a good communications officer and all, but I never expected to get promoted so soon or so quickly. And the races! You wouldn’t believe how many species of aliens I’ve met. They all have such fascinating languages. I’d love to learn them all.”

“Well, I hate to break it to you, but you’re no Universal Translator.”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “That’s why I’m training Nyota. She’d make a lovely piece of gadgetry.”

She whacked him upside the head. “John! For that, I’m letting Naomi and Samara have more Nyota-time.”

“Aw, Penda, don’t be that way,” he whined. “I was just joking. I hardly see her outside of comms as it is. Please?”

She sighed, pretending to be put upon. “Okay, I suppose. If you insist.”

“Oh, I insist! Nyota likes her Uncle John time, don’t you sweetie?”

Nyota looked up and nodded once quickly. “Ja!”

“If I don’t understand a word she says, it’s all your fault.”

\----

6 years, 3 months

“Uncle John!”

Lieutenant Commander John Basch turned from where he was looking for the Uhuras, his face breaking out into a wide smile as Nyota rammed into him and fisted his dress pants in her hands.

“Nyota! I missed you, sweetie,” he smiled, crouching down to give her a hug. “Where’s your mom?”

She pointed off to the left, where Penda was running over, her hair flying around her head as she rushed over.

“Nyota! What have I told you about running off?” she scolded, breathing heavily, as John stood back up.

“But Momma, I didn’t run _off_ , I ran _over_ ,” Nyota insisted. “There’s a difference.”

Penda rolled her eyes as she drew John into a hug. “You’re still in trouble, young lady. I just might have to take away Uncle John time.”

“No, Momma, no! I’ll be good. _Please_ ,” she begged.

“I don’t know,” Penda hesitated, her eyes twinkling in amusement as she winked at John. “What do you think, John?”

John scratched his chin, pretending to think, as they walked over to the baggage carousel.

“Well, she didn’t follow orders, she talked back to a ranking official, and she hasn’t even bothered to say ‘hello’ to me yet,” he started.

Nyota’s eyes widened in horror. “I’m sorry, Momma,” she cried, then squeaked out, “Hi, Uncle John! How are you?”

He grinned. “That sounds better. What do you think, Penda? Nothing but bread and water?”

“Hmm. How about two days with no dessert?”

“That sounds awfully harsh. How about one meal with no dessert?”

“Two meals with no dessert,” Penda countered.

John looked down at Nyota, where she was clinging like a limpet to his legs. “What do you think, my little mockingbird? One whole day without dessert?”

She nodded sadly.

At the forlorn look on her face, John leaned down to whisper in her ear, “But I’m sure we can stop for a treat that doesn’t count as dessert, what do you think?”

Nyota immediately brightened up and smiled at John as he reached over into the baggage carousel to grab his suitcase as it finally appeared.

As they weaved through the crowd out to their car, suitcase in one hand and travel bag thrown over his older shoulder, John glanced over at Penda. She looked more tired than usual, and her hair looked like it had been quickly tied back into a ponytail.

“Penda? Are you okay?” he asked quickly.

She glanced over at him and forced a smile on her face. “It’s nothing, John, just a little bug. I’ll get over it.”

“M’Umbha Penda Uhura. I have known you since we were five; don’t think you can fool me just because we rarely see each other in person anymore. What is wrong?” he asked sternly, frowning at her.

She sighed and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ll talk to you about it when little ears aren’t listening,” she said tilting her head at an oblivious Nyota as she hopped over cracks in the parking lot asphalt.

\----

8 years, 9 months

Penda slowly lowered herself into her chair with a sigh, leaning her head back against the cushion and closing her eyes. Today had been a miserable day at work, and it didn’t help that the chemotherapy made her feel sick. John, wonderful man that he is, kept sending checks so she could pay her bills, but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t nearly enough.

There was a soft rustling, and then the pad of sock-clad feet. “Momma? Are you okay?”

Penda opened her eyes and smiled softly at her daughter. “I’m fine, Nyota. Just tired. How was school?”

“It was okay.”

Penda raised an eyebrow at her daughter, who shifted nervously before raising her chin defiantly. She had a black eye.

“I’m not going to get another comm call from Mrs. Harna, am I?” The Harna kids were always provoking Nyota, until the point where she got sick and tired of it. The last time it had happened, their eldest had ended up with a broken nose and a dislocated jaw.

Nyota shook her head. “They were transferred.”

She didn’t say anymore.

“Well? Who was it then?”

Nyota simply looked at the floor, silently, and mumbled something.

“I can’t understand a word you say when you mumble, sweetie.”

“It was the stupid new kid!” Nyota finally spat out. “Okay? I tried to be nice, and he called me a—a—mbwa!”

“Language, Nyota!”

“Sorry, Momma,” she said, chastised. “But he did!”

“So you hit him, and then he hit you back?”

She shook her head. “He hit me in the face, then in the tummy. Then I kicked him between his legs.”

“Oh, Nyota,” Penda said, burying her face in her hands. She really hoped that Nyota thought she was upset, and not that she was shaking in an attempt to hold in her laughter. It really wasn’t funny.

“What’s his name, so I can call his parents?”

Nyota started to answer, but jumped when the comm buzzed.

“Nyota, go to your room. I bet it’s his parents. I’ll handle this.”

Nyota nodded, and then hurried off to her room. Penda didn’t hear the door shut—she had probably cracked it open so that she could still hear.

Penda straightened her hair, and then accepted her comm. call.

An upset-looking woman was on the other end. “Your daughter beat up my son,” she stated abruptly.

Penda raised an eyebrow. “Really? That’s not what I heard.”

On the other end, out of sight, someone gasped. There was rustling, as if someone was trying to sneak away. The woman frowned and looked over, before narrowing her eyes. “Geoffrey, where do you think you’re going? You tell me this girl beat you up, and then you try to sneak away? You stay right there.”

She turned back to the comm., and smiled at Penda. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Uhura. I’m Hannah Otlinder. According to my son,” at this she shot a stern glance to where he was standing out of sight, “your daughter kicked him in the crotch when he just asked how to get to class. I’m thinking that—don’t you dare, Geoffrey!—he might have been less than honest.”

Penda nodded. “It’s Miss Uhura, but you can call me Penda or M’Umbha. Nyota says that she tried to be nice, but he called her an mbwa—a bitch—and then hit her in the face and stomach. She has a rather impressive black eye.”

“Is this true, Geoffrey?”

There was silence.

“Geoffrey, did you lie to me? Did you hurt this girl? Don’t give me that look, Geoffrey. Is she telling the truth?”

There was more silence on her end.

“ _Geoffrey_ , you will answer me right this moment, young man. Don’t make me comm your father. Actually, no, we won’t comm your father. What I _will_ do is comm your grandparents and see if they need an extra hand with the stables down at the ranch. I’m sure they’d be glad to have someone mucking out their stables for free.”

There was finally a yell on the other end. “Mom, no!”

“Well, then?”

“I didn’t think she’d be home yet!”

“So you hurt this girl, then lied to me, then tried to get her in trouble?”

“…Yes.”

“I’m calling your grandparents. Don’t give me that look. I never said I wouldn’t. And they will hear the whole story, as will your father. I’m sure they’ll find something to do with you. Now go to your room.”

She turned back to the comm.

“I am so sorry, Penda. I had no idea he would do something like that. His father’s currently on a mission with Starfleet, and we just moved from San Francisco, so it’s definitely a bit of a shock to him. I know that’s no excuse, but…We’ll get this figured out. His grandparents live in Australia, and he’s got a thing about all the creepy crawlies that live over there.”

Penda shook her head. “That’s fine, I’m just so sad that something like this happened. I’m just so used to Nyota being the instigator; I accused her right away of starting the fight. She looked so heartbroken…” She sighed.

Hannah smiled slightly. “Just wait until the boys start fighting over her, instead of with her. Then you will have a definite problem on your hands.”

Penda laughed. “Well, I need to go talk to Nyota, who is probably listening in right now. I wish we could have met under different circumstances.”

“If only. It was a pleasure speaking with you, Penda. Good-bye.”

“Good-bye, Hannah.”

The comm clicked off, and Penda stretched, before walking over her Nyota’s room. The door was ajar. Penda entered, and sat down on Nyota’s bed, opening her arms and letting the girl crawl into her embrace. Gently stroking her hair, she slowly rocked back and forth.

“Shhh, shhh, it’ll be all right, we got it fixed. I’m so, so sorry, sweetheart. So sorry.”

\----

11 years, 6 months

Penda jabbed the call button on the comm, impatiently waiting for John to pick up. Nyota was slouching in a chair in the corner, her arms crossed, legs swinging, pout firmly fixed upon her face.

“This is absolutely ridiculous, Nyota, and you know it,” she snapped as she continued to jab the call button.

Nyota rattled off a string of foreign language, and continued to sulk in the corner.

“I can’t do anything about it if I don’t know what you’re saying. Now knock it off!”

Nyota didn’t reply.

Penda ran her fingers through her hair, pacing in front of the old comm like an anxious cat. If she’d had a tail, it would have been whipping about behind her.

The comm dinged, and Penda ran to it as John’s image appeared on the old screen. His hair was damp and ruffled, a line of water dripping down his neck down into his uniform. He’d obviously just gotten out of the shower, and had rushed getting dressed.

“Penda, what is it? Is Nyota okay? Did something happen? Why are you calling?” he asked anxiously. Penda never called unless it was an emergency or was at wit’s end, which rarely happened with her sisters for back-up.

Penda threw her hands up in the air. “I can’t get a single word in English or Swahili out of Nyota. She won’t tell me what happened, just rattles off a stream of gibberish and pouts in the corner. You taught her, you can fix her.”

John raises an eyebrow. “I see how it is. You only love me when you hate me. That’s comforting.”

Penda merely snorted, and looked at Nyota. She was looking at the floor, but otherwise hadn’t moved from her position.

“Talk to Uncle John, sweetie. I’ll be out back in the garden, okay?”

Penda left the room, shutting the door behind her. Nyota still didn’t move.

“Nyota? Mockingbird? I can’t see you; can you come in front of the comm unit? You can talk to me, sweetie. I won’t tell unless you want me to, okay?”

Nyota slowly got up from her chair, and walked over to the comm unit. She still refused to look up, eyes fixed on the carpet. She looked so upset and lost that John wished he could hug her and tell her that everything would be all right.

“Nyota? What’s wrong?”

Nyota sniffed, and then spat out a whole torrent of language that made John’s head want to spin. She was speaking a pidgin language made up of every single language he had taught her and some he hadn’t. There was no sentence structure, no tense changes, just nouns and verbs and subjects and adjectives and adverbs all mashed together.

“There’s a space visitor wants…apples? No, that can’t be right. Who wants children for…Coffin? Grave, internment, funeral…Who wants children to die? That can’t be right,” he muttered.

Nyota shook her head rapidly, and then nodded just as fast before rattling off more of her language.

“Greenhouse, yard, field,” he asked.

Nyota rapidly shook her head. That wasn’t right.

“No, no, of course not. Garden? Is that right, garden?” he asked hurriedly.

“Garden, mother, coffin again, seek, no? Search? Find? So, garden mother coffin find…” John slowly trailed off in realization.

“Nyota! Get your mother and lock the doors and windows! Go!” he yelled.

Nyota ran off and John cursed to himself. How could he be so stupid, he should have done something after translating her first sentence but no, he had to translate her second sentence to be sure. Why didn’t Nyota stop Penda from going out, she knew, she _knew_.

John hit the speaker in his room and contacted the Captain.

“Sir, we’ve got a situation. I just got a comm call from my best friend and her kid. There’s something that wants to kill children in Kigoma, in the United States of Africa.”

“Why are you telling me this, Basch? Call the cops, for crying out loud,” Captain Rainer snapped.

“No disrespect, sir, but there’s a situation over there, and I’m not hanging up until I know they’re both safe. Court martial me if you want, but I _need_ someone to call the authorities and get someone over there because Nyota said it was, and I quote, a _space visitor_. That makes it our jurisdiction, sir, if a trusted visitor to our planet is threatening the welfare of our citizens.”

There was silence on the line, and then the current communications officer on the bridge for that shift got on the line. “Sending the message, Lieutenant Commander.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant.” John hit the speaker button again, and began to pace in front of the comm. unit. He felt so useless, Penda and Nyota were probably in danger and all he could do was sit and wait.

On the other end of the comm. unit, he saw Nyota pulling Penda into the room by her arm, yelling and screaming and crying. The second Penda was safely in the room Nyota was off locking the door to the room and securing all the windows, tantrum gone.

Penda looked at the comm. screen in confusion, where John was staring at her in concern. “Penda, are you okay?”

“I’m fine. John, what’s going on? I’ve never seen Nyota act this way before.”

John raised his hands in a placating manner. “Penda, don’t panic, but there might be something trying to kill you and Nyota.”

Penda barked out a laugh. “Is this a joke? Seriously? ‘There might be something trying to kill me’? There’s going to be breaking glass next, isn’t there?”

“Penda. I am not joking. Nyota is in a panic because there is something over there hunting kids, and I think she believes it is after you.”

“And you _believe_ her?”

John fixed her with a stern gaze. “Penda, the last time you didn’t believe Nyota you called me in tears and swore you’d never disbelieve her again. Are you saying that you’re going back on your word?”

“What?! No, it’s just—you’re probably blowing this all out of proportion, John.”

Behind Penda, Nyota was now rummaging through various drawers and behind cushions and under furniture. There was a small pile growing in the center of the room, far enough behind Penda that John could see it easily from the comm.

“No, he’s not!” Nyota yelled. Both of the adults froze, and turned to look at her. She was panting heavily, her hair frizzing out around her head, and her eyes looked almost manic.

“There’s a,” Nyota paused, trying to find her words, “an alien, from somewhere, I don’t know where, he speaks Gaelic. He’s short, blue, fuzzy, and has a mouthful of teeth. I caught him chewing,” Nyota gulped, “I caught him chewing on Missy’s, her, her…And he saw me, he _saw_ me, and I ran, and I know he followed me because I saw him watching Momma and I’d hoped he hadn’t seen me, but he did, he did, and I, and I...” Nyota broke into tears, her whole body shaking. “I was trying so hard to say something, but all that came out was my code language and Momma was upset and Missy is _dead_.”

Penda pulled Nyota into her arms, hugging her tightly. “Shh, it’s fine, sweetie, just take a deep breath for Momma, okay? We’ll get through this, we’re Uhura women, and we always beat the odds.”

Nyota hiccupped, and nodded, burying her head in Penda’s chest.

They stayed curled together until there was a loud thump from the roof of the house, which made both them and John jump. It was quickly followed by another thump.

Penda untangled herself from Nyota and dove for the pile that the girl had made earlier. For a mechanic with a biology degree, she had a large amount of weapons and potential weapons squirreled around the house. When asked, she claimed to be expecting a zombie attack any day now, but those close to her knew that she was paranoid that someone would break in and she wouldn’t be able to defend herself or Nyota.

The woman grabbed a shotgun and box of ammo from the pile, double-checking the weapon and making sure it was loaded. She grabbed a pistol and followed the same procedure, before clicking on the safety and sticking it in the back of her pants. She gave Nyota a small knife, and then went to the wall opposite the comm. unit and took down the spear from the wall. She placed that near her feet so it was within reaching distance, then hustled Nyota over to the corner farthest from the door, away from any windows.

“Penda, you’re a woman after my own heart,” John declared. Penda looked over at him and grinned.

“Also, I thought that spear was for decoration,” John said with an inquisitive tone to his voice.

Nyota piped up, “Just because its decoration doesn’t mean it isn’t real. And just because it isn’t made to be weapon doesn’t mean it can’t be used as one.”

John grinned, “Yet another woman after my own heart.”

“Uncle John!” Nyota cried out in a horrified tone, but she blushed all the same.

There was the sound of shattering glass, and Nyota screamed while Penda let out a stream of curses.

John looked at his watch; it had been over five minutes since he’d had a message sent out to Earth. Where was the fucking back-up?!

John stalked over to the speaker again, and walked back to the comm. unit. They could hear him just as fine there as in front of the speaker.

“It’s Basch, why hasn’t back-up arrived yet?” he demanded.

The communications officer on duty coughed. “They said it’s probably just a false alarm, just a child’s overactive imagination. And you didn’t provide any names, sir.”

“Lieutenant, listen closely. That screaming and those gunshots you hear are coming from _my best friend’s house_. This is _not_ a false alarm! Now have them send people over to M’Umbha Uhura’s house, now!”

There was silence for a moment. “Confirmed, sir. Message sent.”

“Thank you!” he snarled, but didn’t bother going to shut off the speaker. He didn’t want to move from in front of his comm. unit, in case anything happened.

It was hard to see what was happening since only Penda and Nyota were in-frame and the threat was out of view. However, Penda was shooting something, and occasionally blue tufts of fur would fly past the screen. Nyota had stopped screaming and was now whimpering.

Penda threw her shotgun to the side and whipped her pistol out of the back of her pants in one fluid motion, releasing the safety and firing constantly. When the pistol clicked empty, there was a snarl and Nyota screamed again. Something that looked suspiciously like Grover from Sesame Street Classic, only amped up on steroids, bounded across the floor at Penda, only to be rebuffed when she kicked it in the face, quickly grabbed her spear, and pinned it to the ground while it was still trying to recover.

She wiped sweat from her forehead with one hand. Keeping an eye on the shuddering alien pinned to the floor, she walked to the pile and picked up a short sword, before walking over and beheading the alien. John could hear the sound of sirens.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly, his heart still pounding from when he’d seen ‘Grover’ charging at Penda.

She nodded shakily. “Nyota? How you doing?”

“Fine, Momma.”

“Yeah, we’re fine, John. For once I would like to bless my paranoia, and say never again. That was horrid.”

“At least you’d make a kickass Amazon?” John asked with a wry grin.

Penda chuckled.

“Hey, Penda,” he said hesitantly. “I—Would you—Uh. Well. Um. I’m actually planning on transferring after this last mission, to the Starfleet branch in Africa, and I was wondering. Uh. Would you like to go out for coffee with me? Or dinner? On a, uh, date?”

Penda stared at him blankly for a minute, before a smile slowly brightened her features. “I’d love to.”

“Really? That’s, that’s great. Um. It sounds like the police have arrived, so I’ll call you later? If that’s all right?”

Penda laughed. “That’s always all right, John. And that will never change.”

John grinned. “That’s great to hear. Bye, Penda. Bye, mockingbird!”

“Goodbye, John.”

“Bye, Uncle John!”

John ended the comm. call and then let out a whoop, before belatedly realizing that his speaker was still on. With a light cough, he turned off the speaker, and then let himself fall back on his bed.

He had a date with Penda. His life couldn’t get any better than this.

\----

15 years, 7 months

Nyota quietly tiptoed out of the house, making sure that the door didn’t slam behind her. She walked through the wet grass in her bare feet, going up to the top of the hill in the backyard. Laying down, she stared up at the night sky.

“Mom still misses you,” she finally said out loud. She could feel someone silently sitting next to her as she began to talk.

“You’ll probably find this funny, but I woke up this morning in a panic because I couldn’t remember the Norwegian word for bread. I never thought that that might be a possibility, but there you go.” She quirked a slight smile.

“Mom’s dating again. I wish she wouldn’t; I can still hear her crying at night and her taste in men seems to have declined as she ages.

“And I’ve already decided what I’m going to do when I graduate. Yeah, I know, I’m only fifteen and I still have two or three years to worry about that, but I want to go to Starfleet. I think when I graduate, I’m going off to college to study linguistics, and then I’m going to apply to Starfleet. If I graduate from high school a year early, and try to finish my linguistics program in three years, then I apply when I’m twenty. I’d like to think that you’d be proud of me.”

She sniffed. She loved these conversations but hated them at the same time because she never really knew what to say. “I wish you hadn’t left us,” she finally said, standing up and brushing grass off of her. She turned around and walked back to the house, not looking behind her. She knew that if she did, there would be no one there.

\----

20 years, 9 months

Nyota pressed the button for the comm, and sighed when her momma didn’t answer yet again. They’d had a close relationship for years, but they’d started drifting apart not long after Penda started dating, and then even more when Nyota declared her intentions to join Starfleet.

“Hi, Momma, it’s Nyota again. I appear to have missed you again. I’m fine, and class is going well. I actually ran into Geoffrey—do you remember him? Hannah’s son? He’s in Starfleet now, the same year as me, and he actually apologized! I don’t think he’s changed much, though. How are things at home? Maybe next time we’ll actually manage to talk to each other, rather than leave messages. Love you, bye Momma.”

Nyota ended the call.

\----

21 years, 10 months

Nyota sighed when her momma didn’t pick up the comm. again.

“Hi, Momma, it’s Nyota. Again. How are you? I went to Iowa today. We second-year cadets were allowed to visit the shipyard where the Enterprise is being built, then went to a local bar where I got hit on by James Kirk. Geoffrey still seems to have decided to be my protector, and started a bar fight. For all that Kirk seems rather arrogant, he does seem to have a way with insults. Better than Geoffrey ever did, anyways. He called him ‘Cupcake’, and it seemed like Geoffrey couldn’t decide whether to be more upset that he was calling him a dessert that he likes just a little too much or casting aspersions on his sexual identity. Kirk was on the shuttle back to the Academy, though, so it seems like he’s joining Starfleet. Um. I have to go, Momma. I love you, bye.”

Nyota ended the call and lay down on her bed. Her roommate patted her on the shoulder as she walked by.

“I’m sure she has her reasons.”

\----  
22 years, 7 months

Professor Bufort cleared his throat. “Today we’ll be covering the Grilonia Treaty. Many of you may remember this event, as a Captain’s anger at his communications officer resulted in the deaths of ten men and the dissolution of all talks. As usual, if you feel that today’s topic is emotionally compromising or too personal, you are free to leave at any time.”

Nyota shifted in her seat uncomfortably, looking around. Everyone else seemed to be paying attention, except for her. Did she really want to hear this?

Professor Bufort walked to the white board at the front of the class, and wrote ‘Grilonia Treaty’ in large letters.

“The Grilonia Treaty was intended to invite the Grilonions to join the Federation, therefore ensuring that the Grilonions received protection from any enemies and that the Federation had a monopoly on the platinum and mythril found on that planet, as both are important for the development of our ships and phasers.

“The ship _Lilliput_ was deployed on the mission. Ten officers were sent to negotiate the treaty, with the leader being Lieutenant Commander John Basch. However, due to undisclosed events that occurred earlier that month, Captain Rainier failed to allow Communications to provide Basch with a full dossier on the Grilonions.”

Nyota knew what happened next. Basch and his men were killed, their headless bodies returned to the ship with their insignia missing, and Rainier got off with a light sentence. She didn’t want to hear anymore.

She gathered her supplies, stood up, and left.

\----

24 years, 4 months

Nyota looked up curiously as her comm unit chimed, announcing that someone was trying to call her. The only people it could possibly be were her aunts, and they were off on a cruise or something at the moment.

She walked over, and pressed the button to allow the call, only to blink in confusion as a woman that she didn’t recognize appeared on the screen.

“Nyota Uhura? You don’t know me, but I’m Amanda, Spock’s mother.”

That was a surprise. She’d only started dating Spock recently, and as such had only heard a little about his parents. She certainly hadn’t expected to get a call this soon from the parents.

“Hello, ma’am. What can I do for you?”

“You can call me Amanda, sweetie. And I need to have a talk with you about your intentions towards my son.”

Nyota fidgeted uncomfortably in front of the comm. as Amanda looked at her sternly.

“I assume you’re a lovely girl, Nyota, but I’m not stupid. Spock won’t say this, but I will: if you are using him, whether to further your career or reputation, or be the next human to snag a Vulcan, or have the love of the only half-Vulcan in existence…My husband and I will _end_ you. Think hard about why you’re with my son, because if you ever make him regret his relationship with you, we _will_ have words.”

Nyota took a breath to say something, and then stopped herself before starting again. “Amanda, I love your son very much, and—”

Amanda raised a hand to stop her. “I wasn’t asking for an answer, Nyota, dear. I don’t disagree that you love him, but is that the only reason you’re with him?”

Nyota was silent.

“I thought as much. Just think about it, dear. I expect you to make the right decision. Give my love to Spock, will you? He works so much that I never get to talk to him anymore.”

“I will, Amanda. Live long and prosper,” Nyota replied, raising her hand in the ta’al.

Amanda returned the gesture. “Live long and prosper.”

Nyota ended the call, and then sat down abruptly. Did she really love Spock? His initial appeal had been the mystery of dating an alien and the hint of danger that came from fraternizing with a professor. Was this really the sort of person she had become, to date a person because of what they are instead of who they are as a person?

She needed to think about this.

\----

25 years, 1 month

Nyota sat at her desk and stared at her next mission assignment in horror. She could not go on this mission. She couldn’t.

She left her room and walked towards the recreational deck, where the Captain and Spock usually played chess at this time.

When she entered the otherwise empty room, she immediately saw Captain Kirk and Commander Spock sitting in a corner, while Doctor McCoy watched.

“Captain,” Nyota said, hurrying over them. “I can’t go on this mission. I’m emotionally compromised.”

Kirk shook his head. “Sorry, Uhura, but you’re the only person on this ship capable of adequately fulfilling this mission. We don’t have the time to pick someone else up.”

“Sir, I _can’t_ go on this mission. It’s against the code to send down a crew member who knows that they will be emotionally compromised by the situation.”

“Lieutenant Uhura, your claims are illogical. There is nothing regarding the Grilonions that would be emotionally compromising to a person with your background. You shall attend the mission as planned.”

Nyota stared at Spock in shock. “Did you just accuse me of lying? No, don’t give me that eyebrow, you just implied it.”

She turned to Captain Kirk. “For the record, sir, I would like to state that I am fully against attending this mission.”

“Noted, Lieutenant.”

Nyota turned, and began to walk down out of the room, before stopping and walking back over. She looked at Spock. “Spock, I’ve been thinking about our relationship for the past few months, and where it is going, and I’ve finally come to a decision. You can find someone else to be your ponn farr friend. We’re done.”

As she stalked away, Nyota forced herself to hold in her giggles as Captain Kirk asked, “Spock, can _I_ be your ponn farr friend?”

\--

Nyota Uhura tried to take deep breaths as she walked down the leafy path with twelve other crew members. She kept her mind blank, focusing only on the here and now, and getting this over and done with.

There was no sign of the Grilonions as of yet, but they were probably waiting at the designating meeting place.

When she had decided to follow her Uncle John’s footsteps, she had never imagined that she’d literally be following in his footsteps. She could almost imagine him and his crewmates walking down the same path, unknowing of the fact that he would never come home to honor that date with her momma.

Nyota stopped and sucked in a lungful of air, her eyes wide, as they finally reached the perimeter of the meeting site. Skulls were mounted on posts, with their Starfleet insignia crudely affixed to each post. Her eyes lighted on the only skull marked with the insignia of a Lieutenant Commander, and carefully removed it from the post. It was stark white, and missing its lower jaw.

She bent over, scanning the ground intently, before finally seeing it. It was his lower jaw, which had fallen when the muscles and tendons holding it to the rest of the skull finally rotted away. It had darkened due to being in the dirt.

Carefully placing his mandible in her pocket, she lifted the skull up so she could peer into its eye sockets. Without the insignia, she never would have been to identify which skull was his. “Oh, Uncle John, I am so sorry.”

She glanced over at the other men and raised an eyebrow. “What are you standing there for? These were members of Starfleet, and we’re not leaving them here.”

She then grabbed Lieutenant Commander Basch’s insignia, and jammed it into her pocket with his mandible. Around her, her crewmates were gently lifting skulls from posts or rifling through the undergrowth for missing lower jaws.

Nyota wish that she had thought to bring a pack, but no matter.

\--

The Grilonions threw up a fuss when they entered the meeting place with the skulls, but Nyota ignored them. She was going against orders, but at this point, that was inconsequential.

She let out a piercing whistle, and the entire site went silent.

“I am Nyota Uhura, Chief Communications Officer for the Starship _Enterprise_. We are reclaiming our lost crew of the Starship _Lilliput_. I will not be signing a treaty with you today.”

She held in a wince as Captain Kirk spoke to her through her comm. “Uhura! What are you doing? We’re supposed to make a treaty with these people!”

She ignored him. “Almost fourteen years ago, one month before the first attempt to sign this treaty ended in disaster, an alien from a planet that had recently been allowed into the Federation visited Earth. It then killed five children, one of which was my best friend. If it hadn’t been stopped, thanks to the help of the man you killed, countless others would probably have been injured or killed. That planet was then removed from the Federation. Tell me, then, why we should allow a race that killed ten men to enter the Federation?”

The leader, a fat, green being with an elaborate feather headdress, quivered in anger. Nyota dodged to the side in time to avoid a poison dart, throwing John’s skull at the nearest alien and wincing at the solid thunk. Hopefully Uncle John’s skull hadn’t broken, but he had made a nice improvised weapon. She could apologize later.

Landing on the ground, she rolled so that she was on her side, facing the aliens, and withdrew her phaser, set to kill. The others who had beamed down with her all found cover and were shooting as well—only their phasers were set to stun.

The first alien Nyota shot was the leader, followed by the aliens who had sat next to him.

\----

29 years, 3 months

Nyota smiled at her two children as she gently held their tiny bodies in her arms.

“Hey there, lass. How are you and the bairns holding up?”

She looked up and smiled at her husband.

“We’re fine. I see Doctor McCoy finally relented.”

He coughed. “Yes, well, I took advantage of the distraction, to be honest. Spock’s chasing Jim around trying to convince him to be his ponn farr friend, whatever that is, and McCoy’s trying to stop them before Jim eventually runs in here.”

She laughed. “I’ll have to give Spock my condolences when I next see him.”

Her son stirred softly, and she gently hushed him as her husband reached out to relieve her of her daughter.

“So,” he started with a twinkle in his eye. “I’ve been talking to your aunts, and they told me about an old family tradition. How soon do you think they can start learning Norwegian?”

Nyota smiled. “Who says I haven’t already started, Monty?”

\--End


End file.
